We Could Get Lost in This City
by silver-shores
Summary: "We could get lost in this city / we could forget how to make our way home." Sometimes, they can't even remember why they ever fell in love with this place. Sometimes, they wish they hadn't. Rachel, Kurt, and others. T for now, subject to change later.


**Author's Note: Here's the first chapter of my newest story. I don't know how many parts it'll have yet, but this is the beginning. Enjoy!**

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><p>Her arms are overflowing with <em>things<em> – random articles of clothing, orientation packets and information, her phone and room key and iPod and driver's license; boxes are piled up at her feet in an unfortunate haphazard order. It's going to be hell organizing them later, she knows, but right now she can't bring herself to care.

"Hey, did you get the last of everything?" A voice behind her causes her to turn her head toward the source, and Rachel Berry smiles warmly at the boy who has undoubtedly become her best friend over their last two years of high school. They'd started out as enemies, but now Kurt Hummel is one of the most important people in her world (her dads, Shelby, and assorted members of McKinley High's old glee club being some of the others).

"Yeah, I did," Rachel answers in the affirmative, and Kurt grins back at her.

"I'll help you move into your dorm tonight if you help me move into mine tomorrow," he offers.

"That's just fine with me."

With that, Rachel nudges the door of her dorm room open with her foot, and gingerly walks over to the bed she's claimed for herself before letting everything in her arms tumble unceremoniously onto the mattress. She heaves a sigh of relief and looks around the room, really taking it in for the first time.

The room is bare, with the exception of all her boxes and suitcases that still need to be unpacked, and the essential items of furniture (two beds, two desks, and two tiny closets, though the latter don't quite count as furniture). The walls are a plain white, the carpet a standard navy blue. There's only one window, and it faces an empty alleyway. She's not quite sure if she likes the lack of a view, but who knows? Maybe she'll learn to like it. Just for good measure, Rachel reaches along the wall and flicks on the light – it casts what she can tell is a soft yellow glow throughout the room, even though it's daytime; it's not particularly strong but not unwelcomingly harsh. Thankfully Rachel brought her own desk lamp, and can only assume that her roommate has brought one as well. From the emails they've exchanged over the summer, Rachel knows she'll be arriving tomorrow afternoon.

"It's… cozy," Kurt wrinkles his nose, and Rachel laughs.

"Were you expecting much better? You know, this is what yours is going to look like, too. Hate to break it to you, but if you were envisioning a fancy hotel room complete with room service, you're in for some disappointment," Rachel teases, and sits down on the (_her_) bed. She bounces up and down a couple of times, and looks around once more.

"Where should we start, Kurt?" she breaks the silence that had temporarily settled over the room in order to get his attention, and he shrugs noncommittally in response.

"Your closet," he determines, and immediately gravitates to one of her boxes marked clothes.

Rachel looks down at her phone and notes the time with dismay. It's 3 o'clock in the afternoon, and by the time they'll have gotten mostly everything sorted out, it will definitely be late into the night. Kurt is probably going to have to stay over, and she doesn't mind that. It might be against the rules for a boy to stay the night in a girl's dorm (it probably is), but Rachel hasn't bothered to look over those lists and warnings yet, so she doesn't much care for them at the moment. She had just been hoping for some time to relax and properly absorb everything, though now, because it looks as if she isn't going to get it…is she wrong for her mood's abrupt shift from somewhat cheerful into the realm of somewhat melancholy?

It's not like she can help it. Believe it or not, she misses Lima. She misses the familiarity of the neighborhoods, the all-too-recognizable halls of McKinley, the broad expanse of their football field and the cold of the bleachers where she used to sit when she needed to _think._ She misses her dads, even though they'd said goodbye to her a few hours ago, and she misses Shelby, who she knows is actually moving back to New York herself with Beth in a few weeks' time – but that doesn't stop Rachel from missing her anyway.

She misses the glee club (even those who used to be the most awful to her, like Quinn and Santana). She misses the choir room and the stage and Mr. Schue and Ms. Pillsbury with those weird pamphlets that were actually kind of funny when you took the time to read through them…and hell, she even misses Coach Sylvester.

All that reminds her of home is gone. Everything feels so final, and yet so _new_.

And, despite having planned out the rest of her life starting from the tender young age of five (and having stuck by this plan without fail throughout the years), Rachel Berry acknowledges the fact that now, she feels clueless. She can count on one hand the number of times she's felt like this, and she knows, without a doubt, that she doesn't like it _at all._

_So this is what it's like to be in college. _

…_Isn't it?_

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><p>She's right. They finish settling her in by 11:30 pm, after hours spent working with only a few minimal breaks, and Kurt orders them crappy Chinese from a place they saw on their way to school earlier. The food is really bad (or maybe she isn't used to eating Chinese food), and Rachel's almost completely sure she's going to get sick tomorrow morning. Nonetheless, she doesn't care. She's with Kurt right now, in <em>New York City.<em> They're both going to the same school and taking similar classes, and hopefully this elusive place that has held both of their dreams in the palm of its hand for so many years now will open up its tight grasp and allow them to share in some of those riches they've been envisioning as far back as they can remember.

She's hoping to God that this all pans out. She can't go back to Lima a failure.

She can't go back to Lima at all.

(Because, yeah, she misses it. But does that mean she'd like to go back? Live there once again? The answer to that is and always will be a firm _no._ There is nothing for her in Lima, not now, not ever. Rachel can miss it all she wants but at the end of the day, she'd choose New York over anything else. _Anything._ Every single time.)

Her and Kurt fall asleep together, as they have many times before. It's natural, comfortable. Rachel leans her head against his shoulder as she allows her eyes to slowly flutter shut, taking some measure of solace in the fact that she is not alone. Tomorrow, she'll go out more – help Kurt with his room like she'd promised, and then go around the city. Maybe her roommate will come with. She doesn't know very much about the girl, but Rachel can tell she's someone easy to get along with.

Tomorrow, she'll see New York – really see it.

It's the last promise she makes to herself before sleep overtakes her completely.


End file.
